Finding her Voice
by Jaskolka
Summary: ***I own no LOTR characters or content! First timer, so gentle criticism appreciated***Khya, the daughter of a skilled and well respected Hunter of Mirkwood is taken into the Halls of the King after his sudden death. Just when it seems she has little to contribute to her new world, she discovers a power she never knew she had - and captures the attention of the King like no other
1. Chapter 1

**Expected**

She willed her hand to move. It would only take the slightest twist. It was expected of her, there was no logical reason why she shouldn't comply. It's not like the words were not spoken to her directly, she berated herself for her cowardice. Drawing a deep breath in hopes it would help to still her pounding heart, the smooth cool certainly of the door's handle waited quietly in her hand. You have been invited; she repeated to herself, this is required of you.

She was expected.

None of this was what _she_ had expected. She had grown up on the edge of the kingdom, the youngest child of one of the few Elven families who dwelled permanently outside of the forest city walls. Her father was a hunter, and as far as she was concerned, so was she. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of her father, gone now just three _astar1_ past. What she wouldn't give to change the events that brought her here.

Two chamber maids scurried past her, down the hall towards the main chambers. She knew it was getting late. She was meant to arrive before sundown.

Breathe. Go. Now!

Her body finally responded to her commands. Her next breath was soothed by the savory updraft of the sage and autumn apple aroma of finely crafted candles burning inside ornate scones. The flicker and warmth of the hearth softly chuckled then snapped to attention as Kyha stepped softly into its pool of light. Heart still stubbornly racing, she raised her chin to greet him respectfully, reverently (do not disrespect him!) eye to…..empty chair? Simultaneous waves of relief and disappointment washed over her.

**Waiting**

Sat upon the window ledge, watching the sun casting its last bathing strains of light over the towering forest, Thranduil felt unsettled and cross. The _Aran2_ was pulled in too many mundane directions, and annoyed by a succession of shortcomings of the expectations he held. Autumn was settling in quickly, they must be adequately provisioned before the winter days, when he and his kin retreated into the large hallowed halls and homesteads beneath the forest floor. These days could be long and arduous without the appropriate amount of distractions, the most immediately pressing being the upcoming Yule festival of first frost. Perhaps the winter would drive out the wretched invaders that had taken several lives of his best hunters. Perhaps his Kin's retreat would be the answer…

The nearly silent click of the door handle interrupted his musing and his gaze shifted to the timid _neth3_ he had instructed to visit him this evening. Graceful enough in motion, but always silent, he had slyly watched her from a distance for the past three _Astar_, partly to observe how she is adapting to life within the kingdom walls, and admittedly, partly because she was a pleasure to observe. He wanted to find a place for her, her father was a loyal, gifted hunter - and a friend. The sudden loss of her _Ada4_ was devastating for her. _These vile creatures must be stopped… _By all accounts, Khya was always shy and cautious. She seemed to be taking in her new surroundings through wide and limpid eyes; he could not get a gauge on what she was thinking. There had been no promise that she would amount to much more than a very pleasurable distraction until today.

**Finding her voice**

First, it became clear that she had a gift for organization. She seems to drift around aimlessly to him, however at some point in the day; she had quietly offered her assistance to his March Clerk. She quickly slotted the groups of cohorts into their ordered ranks and rotations for Warden Patrols, managing to maximize coverage and freeing three talented archers to join the out parties defending the Forest. With the arachnid attacks increasing in both frequency and severity, it was admittedly a complicated job, but when this dim witted and previously unreliable Clerk so proudly submitted his work with a cocky air of expected praise, he was promptly and easily seen through. The King of Mirkwood was no fool. When he had demanded to know who had assisted him, the coward gave her up immediately.

Now she sat summoned, off to the side of his _sammath5_ while he received a Captain of the guard for an update on the encroaching of these foul arachnids into his realm. As his loyal and visually exhausted Captain stuttered his excuses, a disorientating shiver washed over Thranduil. He gleaned a word…a whisper…an impression against his mind, unspoken but felt passionately enough to leap from one mind to his: _Cannibals!_

The voice left an echo in his body. The source was undeniably Kaya! His eyes locked onto her, her eyes were on the Captain. Her gaze flipped to his and immediately dropped into her lap. He stared hard at her for a long minute – complete silence. She obviously had no idea she had connected to him. She was gifted with the voice but completely unaware of it!

'You do not disrespect me by breaking my gaze to ignore me, _neth_.' he whispered sharply. She flinched and raised her eyes to meet his obligingly.

He had tried to keep his tone completely even although an undeniable emotional intensity hung in the air between them. The Captain stood confused but wisely silent, having witnessed the odd unspoken shadow that had passed over his Aran's face just before this current exchange.

'Leave us, now.'

As Thranduil spat the words, the Captain was already turning on his heels to obey. She watched him go, and Khya's terror filled the void. How had she angered him?! He had turned his back on her for a moment, bracing the ledge of the hearth behind him, and his voice came low and calm yet seemed coiled to strike.

'Cannibals? Explain yourself to me.'

He had read her mind! Of course, came a voice from inside. His sister, Galadriel, was notoriously gifted with this sort of insight. How silly she was to try to frame him within such a mundane context – he was the King! He was, as she was, filled with _galad6_. This is what made them the beacons of their kin.

'Khya! Speak!' Thranduil had turned to face her now.

'W-when I was small I once collected as many d-different spiders I could find, t-together in a bottle.' Her voice seemed small, even to her. He approached her, slightly tilting his head, his piercing blue eyes devouring her face.

'Go on' he whispered.

'I-I covered the top with cheese cloth.' She nodded as if he knew this was a wise choice for her to have done. He arched one eyebrow, the urgency for her explanation was outweighing his courtesy, and she was even getting on her own nerves with her own stammering.

'Cheese cloth…air could get in, you see.' _Oh shut up about the cheese cloth_! She twisted her hands together tightly in an attempt to center herself control beneath the intensity of his gaze. She dared not look away and tempt his anger, and began to shake. Tears bit into the back of her eyes and she involuntarily closed them in a failed attempt to stop them. He moved close to her, and she felt his hands gently enfold hers, drawing her to stand up. As one tear betrayed her composure and slid down her cheek she heard…no…_felt _his words.

'_Breathe, little one. I am not angry with you. Say what you want to say.'_

She opened her eyes to look at him and the very breath he told her to take was stolen. He was beautiful, effervescent, and her stomach flipped over. He was closer than his body, his voice penetrated her.

'I gathered them all together – the spiders. But in the morning, they were all gone but one.' It was Thranduil's time to slowly close his eyes; he was trying to be patient.

'I asked my Ada why, as I was positive none had gotten out. He told me they are cannibals, my Aran'

Thranduil knitted his bows slightly. He had begun to absently caress her hands in his own. His touch brought forth warmth from deep inside her.

'Why is it important for me to know this, Kyha?' His tone softening.

Unbidden, her body had begun to respond to his touch. He was so close to her. His gaze slid over her blushing face the smallest of smiles could be detected on the precisely delicate lines of his lips. She felt her ears burning.

'It's important, Sire, because we work ourselves silly with our retaliations. Our attempts to fight them off are useless. W-we don't need a bigger compliment of Wardens….we need a bigger spider!'

Footnotes:

1 **Asta** (1) noun "month", a division of the year (VT42:20. Pl. **astar**), 'a division, a part' especially one of other equal parts: 'of the year, a month or period' .com

2 **Aran **n. king (used of a lord or king of a specified region) Ety/360, S/428, LotR/II:IV, LotR/VI:VII .com

3 **Neth** : n. girl (in her teens, approaching the adult) [VT/47:14-16,33, VT/48:6] .com

4 **Ada** n. father, daddy [Ety/349] .com

5 **Sammath** n. chambers .com

6 **Galad** n. light, radiance, glittering, reflection (from jewels, glass or polished metal or water) .com


	2. Chapter 2

As dusk fell upon the Greenwood, an eerie parallel of shadows krept over Thranduil's heart. He knew very well his beloved forest was withering (...diminishing... ) His Wardens fought bravely each day to push back the vile skirmishing creatures. He had pulled all his Hunters, those who upheld the long standing traditions of gathering resources noble families who dwelt outside of the main Halls back inside in retreat after the death of Elerossë. His heart pinched, he drew his eyebrows together feeling keenly the guilt and weariness. Elerossë. A loyal Hunter, a loving father, whose final struggle in this life had been unwitnessed. He had succumbed to the vile poison that coursed the beasts' veins. For a week he had been missing. When found, He had been a desiccated shell. When they found him...when she found him...Khya.

The great king drew a deep breath, gently shaking his head - pulling his attention back to the ledgers in front of him. He had been over it again and again, it would be lean, but there was enough supplies for the Stay of Hrive. They would be cradled in the very heart of this land. Still, it plagued his thoughts: As he and his kin retreated into the deeper caverns and halls nestled in the roots of the great trees, the darkness would advance. What would greet them in the emergence of Spring?

...she found him...

With all of his heart he wanted to take the grief she must feel from her. He knew the horror and undoing of the death of Kin, of Fathers.

This afternoon, she had spoken to his heart and mind with her own. A push of consciousness she had been unaware she was capable of doing. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't felt it, heard it. A bigger spider she had replied, when he pushed her to speak. It was a bold suggestion; the faintest smile touched the corners of his mouth. He'd never thought of that! Ages upon this land and there was still an unusual quality to the logic of the young. They are more petulant, more passionate. Amoung the Elven Elders, he was considered younger, less wise...and described as more dangerous, he'd heard. Time stretched into stillness, with age came that placid melancholy calm. He enjoyed the thought of drawing his Kin around him in celebrations, and letting them quicken his blood once again.

Lost in these thoughts, he dimly became aware of Khya's presence outside of his door. She struggled with entering, in spite of his explicit instructions to return to him this evening. He closed his eyes and allowed his spirit to flow outwards to her in an attempt to gauge the source of the young one's fears. His reward was little. Vague impressions of insecurity...of uncertainty...of an internal wrestle of confidence. To be expected, he supposed. She was young, and spent most of her life without his visceral presence. He stayed still near the window, allowed her to enter under her own accord. Scaring the child further would not help him, or her, to trace the source of the Voice from within her.

She finally entered, head held high expecting his seated figure. Again, she sighed upon seeing his empty chair. Again, he gently coughed to call her attention to him. She slowly closed her eyes, biting her lip then opening them in his direction. A small apologetic smile touched her lips.

'Do not be shy of me, Neth' he smiled. 'And forgive me for surprising you twice in one day, please join me here.'

Khya nodded and made her way across the broad wooden planks, drawing a deep breath to steady her nerves. He gestured for her to sit on the ledge before him, and she did as was bidden. Gently folding her hands in her lap, she lifted her gaze to his own. A mantle of calm settled over her. He regarded her gently. He seems lit from within, somehow. She wondered how she ever could have been afraid.

'How are you finding your quarters, Khya? Is there anything you'd like me to address?' His eyes blazed intensly, in stark contrast to the placid and soothing expression on his face.

'All is well, Adar. Thank you.'


End file.
